


Birds of a feather

by Allemande



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Fix-It, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor investigates some strange goings-on in a small Scottish village and, by chance, meets Donna. Torn between the joy of experiencing this adventure with her and his fear of what will happen to her if she remembers him, he also tries to save the world as usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A swarm of wasps

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta readers, platypus and finisterre!

**Chapter One - A swarm of wasps**  
  
Why did they always have to come to Earth? Home of brilliant people, sometimes brilliantly stupid but nonetheless courageous, curious, inventive... His second home. Only home, really, apart from the TARDIS and the space-time vortex. And for some reason it was constantly being invaded by aliens who had all the universe to choose from but came, unerringly, to Earth.  
  
These were some of the Doctor’s more coherent thoughts as he ran for his life, a giant globe-shaped swarm of wasps behind him.  
  
A Flock, of all things! Hadn’t his people banned them to Cabillarion IV? But that, he realized, was one of those ancient boundaries that wouldn't work now.  
  
He jumped into a convenient-looking alley to the right, and the Flock rushed past, too fast to turn (still their major weakness, he noted). By the time it had regathered, he would be a mile away.  
  
“In here!” A hand grabbed him by the collar and pulled him, rather roughly, through a doorway. “You’re safe in here!”  
  
He spun around, the part of him that sometimes grew exasperated with humans rearing its head, and faced the dark-haired man in front of him. “No, I’m not safe in here, and neither are you! You should come with me right now,” he threw a quick look around, “all of —”  
  
Oh no.  
  
“Blimey, you know how to say thanks,” said Donna Noble.  
  
He continued staring at her.  
  
“What, skinny boy? Never been told not to be rude?”  
  
He forced himself to look away, to not wonder why for all the moons of Myle she was here, and he fixed his gaze on the man in front of him. “Seriously, this is not safe, we should run that way,” he said, thrusting out an arm, “before the Flock regathers.”  
  
“Calm down, son,” said the dark-haired man, who had a thick Scottish accent. The Doctor realized as he looked around that he must be a tourist guide. “The wasps have haunted this town for a week, I know where to hide.”  
  
“For a week?” asked a blonde in her forties, accent distinctly American, tone distinctly annoyed. “You said you didn’t know where they’d come from!”   
  
“Well, it’s true,” said the man. “Nobody in this town does.” He forestalled her oncoming tirade with a shrug and a smile that begged forgiveness, and the Doctor thought he rather liked this man.  
  
“I’m Daniel,” he said, holding out his hand to the Doctor.  
  
The Doctor threw another short glance at Donna, which she rewarded with a suspicious look.  
  
“John Smith. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands and went to sit down in a corner of the small garage they seemed to have broken into, while the others resumed their conversations in low, worried tones. “So the… wasps have been here for a week?”  
  
“Well, let's say they started behaving like that a week ago,” said Daniel. He looked embarrassed. “I thought they'd gone, I hadn't seen them for a few days, else I would have told this lot to leave...” He frowned, looking at the group of seven at the other end of the room.  
  
“And it’s just wasps?” asked the Doctor in a low tone so only Daniel could hear. “No other animals have been, er, behaving strangely?”  
  
Daniel frowned. “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”  
  
“Oh, just curious,” said the Doctor in as light-hearted a tone as he could muster, while simultaneously calling to his mind all the facts that he remembered about Flocks and studying Donna, wondering, hoping, praying that he didn’t look familiar to her.  
  
She caught his gaze and strode over. “You look familiar,” she said without preamble. “I’m Donna. What’s your name?”  
  
“John,” he said, his mind racing. Oh — of course. That moment of stupid weakness when he hadn’t been able to leave her house in time. Had gone back to say goodbye, on top of that. At least he hoped that was what she remembered.  
  
“You look familiar, too,” he said, pretending to search his memories. “You from London?”  
  
“Yeah,” she said, frowning. “Chiswick.”  
  
“Oh, must’ve been at your house then, trying to sell you a dishwasher. I did Chiswick in one week. Right after Acton. That was one hell of a month, all of West London… I think I remember your house, live with your mum and grandfather, don't you? Was rubbish at that job, though. Good thing I gave it up.”  
  
“You must’ve been more than rubbish, ‘cause my mum never turns down a bargain,” Donna commented, in that flippant, carefree tone that he remembered so well. “Mind you, she was probably distracted that day.” Her expression softened somewhat, and the Doctor almost felt his right heart swelling with the thought that, at least, the relationship between Donna and her mother seemed to have improved.  
  
“So. These flock things, what are they?”  
  
He blinked. “What do you mean, what are they?”  
  
“Well, they can’t be normal wasps.” She lowered her voice. “Yeah, I know this lot believes they’re some rabid Scottish form or whatnot…” She raised her eyebrows at him, almost conspiratorially, and he felt a thrill of recognition. “But frankly —”  
  
“Shh!” Daniel held up a hand. “They’ve moved on.”  
  
The Doctor sniffed the air. Yes, that faint sulfuric smell was gone. “Right, let’s move on!”  
  
And there they were, running for their lives again, Donna and him in front. And Donna was obviously enjoying it. Oh dear, oh dear.  
  
“Where are we running to?” she shouted as Daniel overtook them, panting.  
  
“To my house, they have never come inside a house,” he shouted back. “We’ll be there in a — watch out!”  
  
The Flock had whooshed out of an alley to the right, and while it had announced itself with a deafening roar earlier, this time it was silent. Which was a hundred times scarier, not because the Doctor was afraid of silence, but because he knew it meant that they were improving their control over the bodies they inhabited.  
  
He grabbed Donna’s hand instinctively, and it felt right.  
  
“In here!” They ducked into yet another alley, and they were alone. The Flock had blocked off the main road, and the rest of the group had scattered. No sign of the Flock as they ran, not speaking, just looking over their shoulders every so often. The Doctor ran up to a door, and shielding his sonic screwdriver with his body, he unlocked it.  
  
“We should we cover up all the holes,” Donna panted as they were inside, and pointed at the keyhole.  
  
He shook his head, marvelling at the same time at her presence of mind, one of the things he had first admired about her. “No, they can’t get through on their own. They have to be a whole to be able to function.”  
  
She gave a dry laugh. “Looks like they’re learning pretty fast, though. What’s that silent trick they did just now, or did I suddenly go deaf?”  
  
“No, you didn’t. They _are_ learning very fast.” He sighed and dropped on a couch. They were in a small parlour; the inhabitants seemed to have gone away. They had left in a hurry, since there were still the traces of breakfast on the table and all the shutters were closed.  
  
“So you seem to know what these things are,” Donna said as she sat down on a chair opposite him. “Pretty well-read for a dishwasher salesman.”  
  
“More like well-travelled,” he replied. “Which goes for lots of dishwasher salesmen, actually. We’re the modern adventurers, you know? You should see what different tribes and cultures I’ve had to deal with in my time.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him in that half-annoyed, half-inquisitive way. “Whatever. But what are they?”  
  
He was at a loss. What if even the tiniest mention of extraterrestrial life brought back a memory? Not that he doubted his efficiency at erasing memories, but he had never trusted the technique with humans, as they and even their brains had continued to surprise him over the last 900 years. He could never forgive himself if she suffered for him again.  
  
But before he could reach a conclusion, Donna rolled her eyes, misunderstanding his hesitation.  
  
“Oh come on, you don't have to treat me like some Daily Mail reader who thinks it's all a hoax. It's alien, right? It must be alien.” She hesitated, and finally said, “I would know.”  
  
His hearts began to race but he forced himself to keep control of his face. “And why would that be?”  
  
She looked a little embarrassed. “All right, don't think I'm mad or something, yeah? But... I think I was abducted or something. Cause I lost my memories of several months.”  
  
He gulped. “Right.”  
  
She grimaced. “Yeah. That's what most people say. 'Right'. And it's all downhill from there with 'sure, love' and 'nice meeting you but I really need to get to this meeting in Tanzania right now'.”  
  
He grinned. “No, I believe you. You're right. There are aliens everywhere these days.”  
  
She leant forward, suddenly excited. “There are, aren't there! And I reckon I must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time or something and seen something they really didn't want me to see.”  
  
He nodded solemnly, all the while trying to ignore the twinge in his hearts.  
  
“So, Flock, did you call them?” She looked as excited as she ever had when there was a new world to explore, and it was such a wonderful feeling that he forgot that he was dangerous to her.  
  
He leant forward as well. “Yeah. They're creatures made out of thought, we-ell, it's what you'd call thought but it's actually a neuromagnetic field binding them together into a community. On their home world they exist by inhabiting other species, and they're peaceful there, all lovely. Unfortunately one day they got some visitors — humans, no doubt, you just go everywhere in the name of science, bless you — who got so scared seeing them inhabit a herd of maglamites that they ran off, and that's where the Flock got the idea that it might be fun going to other worlds and scaring other species. _Very_ unfortunately, scaring turned into hunting and hunting turned into killing.”  
  
Donna looked riveted, though at the same time slightly doubtful. “Who are you then, some alien expert?”  
  
“Yup,” the Doctor said simply.  
  
“All right then,” she said, apparently willing to believe him for the moment. “What do we do to kick them back to neuromagnetic hell?”

 


	2. A flock of sheep

**Chapter Two - A flock of sheep**  
  
“So what are you doing out here?” the Doctor whispered to Donna as they were crouching in an apple tree. They had followed the Flock out to this field, where it had encountered another flock, this time of sheep. It had been hovering uncertainly over the animals for half an hour. Climbing the tree (which they had achieved without alarming the shepherd to their presence) had met with a number of whispered protests from Donna but now — typically — she seemed to be enjoying it.  
  
“Oh, just travelling,” she whispered. “Wanted to see something new. Get out of my job as a secretary.”  
  
“Good for you,” he replied. _Oh, good for you._  
  
They watched the shepherd for a while; the old man was so engrossed in his reading that he had so far failed to notice the silent wasps, only occasionally brushing one away, then turning a page. He looked utterly at peace.  
  
“And you?”  
  
“Oh, strange neuromagnetic readings in a small Scottish town, couldn't resist,” he said.   
  
“Readings? On what?”  
  
“Well, I have this, er, machine.”  
  
She shook her head, amused. “Fine. Be vague. Guess you have to cultivate a sort of mystery when you're an alien expert.”  
  
“Oh, yeah. Bit difficult otherwise when you're called John Smith.”  
  
“Oh, come off it. I don't believe that's your real name for a second.”  
  
He grinned. “Fine.”  
  
She hesitated, then said, “Look, I should probably tell you —”  
  
There was sudden movement on the grass below — the wasps swooped, the sheep bleated, and the wasps took off, each going their separate, confused ways. The Flock had moved on.  
  
It was like watching a film in slow motion. First the sheep all moved to the left, then to the right. Then they moved in a circle. Then they bleated, one note, all at once. Then they charged right at the shepherd, who had been watching, bemused.  
  
“No!” shouted Donna and the Doctor in unison, as the man was trampled by his own sheep. The Flock turned around, looked up, and charged at the tree.  
  
“Stay up here!” called the Doctor frantically, as Donna moved to scramble down and run away. “They can't climb a tree, they're bound to the possibilities of the bodies they're inhabiting at the moment.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” asked Donna, as the sheep started ramming the trunk, over and over again, and the tree swayed rather dangerously.  
  
“Well,” conceded the Doctor, “then there's the part where they start hurting the bodies, because they don't care what happens to them.”  
  
“Great,” shouted Donna over the bleating, which was reaching a crescendo. “Well I'm not going to die falling off a tree that's being rammed by aliens in the form of sheep!” And she started throwing down apples at a surprisingly fast rate.  
  
“Donna, you'll only make them angry!” shouted the Doctor. But then he saw what she was getting at. “Brilliant!” And he too started throwing as many apples as he could right into the middle of the Flock, creating so much confusion that it sent the sheep scattering.  
  
It was almost comical, the way the sheep turned and turned, trying to regain their connection to the Flock. But the Doctor and Donna didn't stay to watch. They ran as far as the next house, which was quite a long way, and Donna was clutching her sides by the time they'd collapsed on the couch. This house, too, was deserted.  
  
“That poor shepherd,” was the first thing she said.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“So how do we stop them?” That was the second.  
  
The Doctor smiled inwardly at her bravery. She wouldn't even think of running away. “Well, that's the difficult part. The best weapon is splitting them up into their compounds, as you've seen, but it's really hard in a wide open space like we have here. Also, really splitting them up, not just confusing them like we just did, would mean killing them because they can't exist outside of the collective.”  
  
Donna frowned, and he knew that that was as much of a problem for her as it was for him. “Second best weapon then? What about... can they inhabit other creatures as well? We could try and communicate with them?”  
  
He grinned. “Donna Noble, I like your way of thinking.”  
  
She frowned more deeply, and a split second later he knew why. Bugger.  
  
“When did I tell you my last name?”  
  
“Oh, phenomenal memory for names, c'est moi,” he said in as much of a off-hand tone as he could muster. “It's why I went direct from dishwasher salesman to alien expert, it's much more fun using my skills to remember names like Raxicoricofallapatorius than Megawash II.”  
  
She snorted. “All right then, alien expert. Tell us your plan.”

 


	3. A troop of Time Lords

**Chapter Three — A troop of Time Lords**  
  
The Flock had been quiet for a few days now. People started returning to the town, and Daniel had said there would be a festival, their annual summer festival, tonight. Four hundred people packed into the marketplace. A temptation, the Doctor knew, that the Flock wouldn't resist.  
  
He knew them; they hadn't vanished, they had been biding their time. Improving their control over unfamiliar bodies, learning, studying the town's animals, and watching humans. It was only a matter of time until they learnt to possess human bodies. It was the next logical step, as the Flock were always looking for the most complex brains they could find; the more neural impulses, the bigger the kick. And he was fairly sure it would happen tonight.   
  
“So then we can communicate with them,” said Donna, as they walked across the marketplace, looking around at the peaceful scene. “We can tell them to buzz off. Bleat off.”  
  
“Blog off.”  
  
“Is that supposed to be typically human?”  
  
“In my experience, yes. And it starts with a b.”  
  
She snorted. “Oh, flock off.”  
  
He grinned. “Anyway, it won't be that simple. We need something to threaten them with. Now, you’ve already got one ingredient: someone very clever.”  
  
She looked at him, raising her eyebrows, and he grinned maniacally. She rolled her eyes.  
  
“All we need is a few volunteers,” he continued. “I know! We could go find your tour guide, what was his name? Daniel. Lovely person.”  
  
They found him in his house —Donna had still had his address— and were surprised to find that two people from the tour group were still there. It turned out that Cecile, a French journalist, had been attacked by a pack of dogs possessed by the Flock; luckily she had not been badly injured and had managed to escape into a narrow street. She and Marc (her 'best friend' who, thought the Doctor, looked as though he'd like to be more) had waited until she recovered. They were now busy planning how to get out of the town.  
  
“Listen, all of you,” said Donna, beating the Doctor to it. “Mr Smith here knows how to fight these things, but we need your help.”  
  
“ _Fight_ them?” asked Cecile. “Are you mad?”  
  
“No,” said the Doctor, and stopped himself from adding _just slightly eccentric_. “Listen, the Flock will not stop here. Even if you find a way out of the town, it will find its way to other towns, and cities, and across the continents. It will get stronger and stronger until we won't be able to stop it. And the people it inhabits will not be able to take the neuromagnetic pressure, the Flock will leave them eventually and they will die. Now is the moment to do it. I can talk to it, and try to make it leave.”  
  
“ _Talk_ to them?” asked Marc. “How the hell are you gonna talk to a flock of sheep, or a pack of wolves, or God knows what they'll be next?”  
  
“Not God, actually,” said the Doctor. “Just me. The Flock will inhabit the townspeople next, at the annual festival tonight. And it'll be able to speak then, and listen. I will ask it to leave, and if it doesn't...” He hurried to the kitchen at the back of the living-room, and took out a stack of plates. “Each of you will be equipped with a plate, and if we place ourselves around the marketplace, I'll be able to stop them with this,” he held up his sonic screwdriver.  
  
“With plates,” said Marc, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And with a probe thing.”  
  
“Screwdriver,” said the Doctor. “It's sonic.”  
  
“We're getting out of here,” said Marc. “Come on, Cecile.” They moved to the door. But Daniel was blocking it.  
  
“Those are my people out there,” he said, in a low, dangerous tone. “My friends, my family. And you will just run away leaving them to die?”  
  
“Look, what can we do?” asked Cecile. “We can't follow this madman, we don't even know who he is...”  
  
And a heated discussion broke out. The Doctor was dumbfounded. He had been trying so hard to keep who he was hidden, so as not to endanger Donna. Now it turned out that that attempt had awakened mistrust in everyone else, and he could not undo it without revealing the truth. And what then?  
  
“All right, everyone, calm DOWN!” shouted Donna. She stepped forward so that everyone could see her, and from the back pocket of her jeans she took — _a UNIT badge_.  
  
“I work for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” she said, “it's a special branch of the UN that investigates extraterrestrial phenomena. They sent me to investigate here. This man is one of our most trusted allies, so please step aside and let him do his job.”  
  
There was a moment's silence in which the Doctor definitely did not wear his best 'most trusted ally' face.  
  
Marc and Cecile stepped back, and after a moment's hesitation, each took a plate. Daniel looked content, and took a plate as well. The Doctor's head spun. What was Donna doing working for UNIT?   
  
Donna turned to the Doctor, and finding him agape, frowned slightly. “Well come on then, John. Let's do it.”  
  
He followed her numbly out into the light of the setting sun. They ran silently up the alleyway and split up as planned. As he and Donna settled down at one corner of the marketplace, the Doctor stared at her.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You _work for UNIT_ ,” he said.  
  
“Yeah, well, they told me to stay undercover as long as possible. Sorry. I meant to tell you before.”   
  
“Well played, I believed you,” he said. “But... you told them I was one of your allies.”  
  
“Well, I figured you must be, since you're an expert,” said Donna. “And I was right, wasn't I?”  
  
His frantic hearts pounded a little more slowly at that.  
  
“As for me, I'm no real expert or anything, as you might have noticed,” she added. “I'm just a secretary there, been with them for a month. And, er, they didn't send me to investigate either, I just stumbled upon these readings one day — blimey, what am I saying, last Friday! Feels like ages ago. Anyway, someone had filed them away, weird animal behaviour in remote Scottish village, maybe they thought it wasn't interesting enough. But I thought it looked odd, so I thought I'd take the weekend off and take a look.”  
  
“You work for UNIT and you came out here all on your own without any clue what was going on,” he said in an awe-struck voice, more to himself than to her.   
  
She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I don't know, it seemed important.”  
  
“Brilliant.” The Doctor shook his head slowly. He wasn't sure whether he should be dismayed or amused.   
  
“What do you mean?” She looked almost defensive again.  
  
“You. You're brilliant.”  
  
“Don't make fun of me.” There she was again, the real Donna, sensitive Donna, who hid behind all that bravado so very well.  
  
“I'm not, Donna. You've got that special something.”  
  
She looked mollified, but at the same time something strange passed over her face. “I hear that sort of thing a lot,” she said, bemused. “The UNIT people are full of hints like that. Cause you see, I only put in my application on the off-chance, didn't think I'd even get a reply, but I wanted to try to get in there because of those lost memories I told you about. And then suddenly I get a call, and it's all 'ah yes, Miss Noble' and 'we would be glad to have you on board, given your experience', even though I never even told them about that abduction business, I'm not stupid enough to do that. Anyway, it seems some chap called Colonel Mace put in a good word for me, but he went off on honeymoon right before I started and then away on some special mission or other, so I haven't met him yet...” She stopped, frowning again. “Here I am, telling you everything, and I don't even know your real name.” She smiled.  
  
“Er... yeah, later.” He pointed at the marketplace, which was now full of people, standing in groups, drinking, laughing, dancing. He hoped — and at the same time did not hope — that he was right.  
  
Then it happened — without a sound or any sign of a transition, they all stopped. They stood still for a moment, then one group of people at the far right moved a few steps forward, then back; almost as though they were a finger that was being tentatively lifted. More movement on the other side of the square, another finger — then larger movements in the middle, moving not only legs, but arms, heads... the Flock was testing every possible move of its new body.  
  
The Doctor stood up, and so did Donna beside him. He half considered telling her to stay where she was, but he knew her too well for that.  
  
He stepped into the square and felt the almost physical shock of four hundred pairs of eyes turning to rest on him. He stopped just outside of where he sensed the field that was binding them together.  
  
“I address the Unified Consciousness of the Flock,” he said. “I speak as ambassador for planet Earth. I know who you are, and I know why you are here. Now I give you the chance to leave. Leave these bodies behind, intact, and leave this planet. Find somewhere else to play. Go back to Cabillarion IV.”  
  
A few scattered sounds, as though the giant creature were finding its voice, clearing its throat. Then it spoke with four hundred voices in unison.  
  
“We do not want to leave,” it said. “This planet is nice. We were bored with Cabillarion.”  
  
“ _How_ is Cabillarion boring?” The Doctor frowned, feeling impatience rise up in him. It was as if he was addressing a petulant child, or rather, thousands of them. “It's got fish that can jump, trees that can walk, birds than can fly against the wind at almost-light-speed... oh, and the moving anthills, don't forget the moving anthills!”  
  
“We did all that,” said the Flock. “We inhabited fish that jumped, and trees that walked, and we flew against the wind. We want something new now.”  
  
“But you can't just come to another planet and take over the bodies of its people,” said Donna. “It's wrong.”  
  
“Why?” asked the Flock, and the Doctor thought he almost heard a tone of innocence.  
  
“Because these people have lives of their own, and taking their bodies and their free will is like murdering them!” Donna took a step forward —  
  
“Donna, no —!”  
  
— and immediately became part of their body. She turned to him as well, her eyes suddenly blank.  
  
“Give her back!” he shouted. The Flock did not respond. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at them, feeling rage well up inside him. “I'm warning you, give her back to me NOW!”  
  
The Flock was still silent, and suddenly he got a new sense, a ripple in the field — the equilibrium had been disturbed.  
  
“This one...” said the Flock, “this one... is different.”  
  
“Yes, she is,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Let her go.”  
  
“This one is different,” repeated the Flock. “It has a bigger... a bigger...”  
  
“A bigger head,” said Donna, all on her own, and with what looked like a stupendous effort, took a step forward, towards him. The Doctor's arms shot out to steady her as she overbalanced. She breathed heavily for a moment while the Flock stared daggers at them.   
  
Then Donna looked up at the Doctor — and _winked_.  
  
She straightened up and turned to the Flock. “I'm Donna Noble, and this is the Doctor. He's a Time Lord. Ring a bell? His species banned you to Cabillarion IV. Do you really want to try his patience?”  
  
“Donna!”  
  
“Don't fret, Spaceman.”  
  
“But —”  
  
“Shh!” She laid a soothing hand on his arm. “Later.”  
  
“What will you do to the Flock, Time Lord?” asked the Flock. It almost sounded like mockery. He rolled his eyes. It really _was_ a petulant child. But one that he would have to kill if it didn't obey.  
  
“Either you leave this planet or I will have to stop you.”  
  
“We do not want to leave,” it repeated. “And we don't think you can stop us.”  
  
“Just watch me,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Daniel!” he called out. “Marc! Cecile!” They all stepped forward, enclosing the marketplace in a perfect rectangle, holding the plates in front of them like armour.   
  
“A sonic connection,” he called out to the Flock, holding up his sonic screwdriver; Donna took his own plate from him and held it up. “If I activate the link between these four plates, you will be caught in a sonic field which will break your connection. You will be drawn out of these bodies and be scattered through the air. You will not be whole again.”  
  
The Flock was silent for a long while. Then the giant creature cleared its throat again. “A sonic field sustained by porcelain? We do not believe you.”  
  
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Trust me, I’m not making it up.” _I sometimes do, yeah, but not this time._ “Do your maths. You may be bored children, but you know a little something about neuromagnetism.”  
  
The Flock was silent for a moment. Then —  
  
“Wait.”  
  
He turned to Donna, and there it was again, that unfathomable expression that told him 'Time Lord brain coupled with planet Earth gut instinct'.   
  
She smiled at him. “There's another way. Dust flies.”  
  
“Dust flies!” he exclaimed.  
  
“Dust flies!” She turned to the Flock. “Also known as Prenzian particles. They flit throughout space and into every space. They travel at the speed of light and they visit every place in this universe, and as far as anyone knows, they're non-sentient. Should be extremely hard to get bored with them. So go fly with dust flies for a while, and make sure not to inhabit any sentient beings, or the Doctor and I will be there.” She paused, looking around to observe the effect. But the Flock hadn't mastered human facial expressions yet. “Well, what say you, Flock?”  
  
“We accept,” said the Flock, and a second later it was gone, leaving the humans in the square to stare and stumble and wonder what the hell had just happened.  
  
The Doctor turned to Donna, who beamed and held up her hand. He high-fived hesitantly.  
  
“Donna, what... how?”  
  
She crossed her arms. “I'll try not to be mad at you for just leaving me behind like that, though frankly, you can be such a big dumbo.”  
  
“Donna...”  
  
“It was the connection with the Flock that did it,” she said, beaming. “Neuromagnetic field, it was like that electrical impulse I got from Davros. But I'm fine now. Really. It feels like my head has expanded. Does it look bigger?” She fingered it tentatively. “Wouldn't want to look like Jack in his finest days. Yet.”  
  
“Donna...”  
  
“Oh, don't think you're getting to look inside my head to see if I'm all right. I'm not letting those fingers anywhere near me again, even if it's just to pat my hair enviously, Rude-And-Not-Ginger.” She looked almost touched by the concern that must have been written on his face. “Really, I am fine. It just took a while to gestate. The whole Davros-electric-spark thing was a bit too violent. Human brain, Time Lord consciousness, needs a bit more care than a blue finger.”  
  
“Donna, I'm sorry.”  
  
She looked wary.  
  
“Sorry for what you did or sorry for some unspeakable thing you're about to do?”  
  
“Sorry for what I did.” He hugged her. “Really, I am.” And because he couldn't ever say anything without a touch of egocentrism, he added, grinning, “It was really boring without you.”  
  
She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm.  
  
He held her at arm's length. “But I do need to examine you. I promise I won't do anything unspeakable.”

 


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**  
  
Wilfred Mott was sitting in his usual chair, in his usual blanket, on his usual hill. He still came here every evening, although the joy of looking up at the stars had abated somewhat. But he had promised, and he was a man who stood by his word.  
  
“Hey, Gramps,” said Donna, who had suddenly appeared by his side. (Or perhaps not so suddenly; his hearing was not what it had been.)  
  
“Donna, sweetheart.” He heaved himself out of his chair to hug her. “I didn't know you were back.” He looked at her. “You look good. Happier than I've seen you in a while.”  
  
“I am happy.” She was positively beaming.   
  
“What happened? Ohh, you met a man, didn't you,” he said, giving her arm a pinch.  
  
“Ow! Yes, I did, of a sort,” she grinned. “Brilliant man. Absolutely brilliant. But don't tell him I said that.”  
  
“But who —”  
  
“Gramps, I'm going away again. With the Doctor.”  
  
“The — _what_?” He must have looked alarmed, for she took his hands. “It's okay. I got my memories back but they're not hurting me now, I've changed. My head's got bigger or something.”  
  
“Always been pretty big if you ask me,” said the Doctor, stepping out of the shadows.  
  
“Oi!” came the reply, and a smack.  
  
Wilfred stared at them both. “Doctor —”  
  
“Hello, Wilf.” They shook hands. “Thanks for looking after her while I was gone.”  
  
“But are you sure, Doctor? Sure that Donna will be all right?”  
  
“Yes,” he replied, and Wilfred felt overcome with joy at seeing the Doctor so happy again. He needed no other proof.  
  
“Don't tell mum for now, okay?” asked Donna, when they had hugged again. “It'll only upset her. I'll be back once in a while. — Hand me the screwdriver, will you, Timeboy?”  
  
The Doctor handed it over wordlessly, without hesitation. “Time you got yourself one,” he muttered.   
  
She grinned. “I plan to. And it'll be so much cooler than yours.”  
  
The Doctor rolled his eyes and mouthed 'as if' at Wilf, who smiled. He had no idea what they were on about but didn't care, because all was now right with the world.  
  
Donna bent down over the telescope, adjusted something for a few seconds, then straightened up again. “There. And if you ever need me, Gramps, I've got my mobile with me. I've fiddled with it a bit, you should be able to reach me anywhere, we-ell, at least in this galactic vector and in — oh blimey, I'm starting to sound like him. Never mind, just call me.” She grinned, kissed him on the cheek, and off they were, into that blue box that he only now noticed standing beside his shed. He waved, and shouted goodbye, and it was gone.  
  
Wilfred stared at the spot where the box had vanished, then sat back down and resumed his vigil under the stars.  
  
Donna had increased his zoom by one thousand percent.  
  
  
 **THE END**


End file.
